


Lost & Found

by inkleafclover



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: De-Aged Characters, Gen, Grave of the Fireflies AU, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, fic is gen but there are hints of KageHina, like first-crush type cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 04:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkleafclover/pseuds/inkleafclover
Summary: After their village is bombed, and they lose their mother, Shouyou and Natsu live hand-to-mouth in a shelter by the river. One day, when Natsu loses her ring, the two go searching, and stumble across something else—something far more valuable.A bittersweet story about war, loss, and found-family.





	Lost & Found

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags and any warnings at the top. This is a work of (fan) fiction, and exists for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> I wrote this story for the Haikyuu!! Ghibli Zine, and my collaborative partner was [lemonjuiceday](https://lemonjuiceday.tumblr.com), who did all the [ wonderful art (click here to see on tumblr)](https://lemonjuiceday.tumblr.com/post/160702290673/lost-found-a-grave-of-fireflieshaikyuu-au) for this fic!  
>   
> You can see the other Ghibli Zine stories and artworks [here](https://hq-ghibli-zine.tumblr.com); it's all free!  
>   
> And now there's a free PDF of the whole zine available to download [here](https://hq-ghibli-zine.tumblr.com/post/165233954252/the-haikyuu-ghibli-zine-pdf-is-available-to)!

Shouyou half-crouches in the middle of the river, fingers poised to snatch the moment he spots a flashing fin, a glittering scale. The cool water sparkles around his skinny ankles. A few crows circle overhead, and Shouyou prays that their shadows won’t scare off the fish.

“Nii-chan!” Natsu yells, her voice echoing over the water.

“Shhh!” Shouyou hisses.

Natsu ignores him. “I lost my ring!” she wails.

Shouyou swallows a groan. The ring belonged to their mother, so it’s obviously important, but it’s not more important than eating. “Natsu, you’re gonna scare away all the—”

Natsu lets out an ear-splitting sob. On the other side of the river, a flock of sparrows bursts from a tree, flapping skyward.

Shouyou grits his teeth against the familiar, sour mix of frustration and helplessness threatening to overwhelm him. Natsu wailing, both their bellies empty—no, _hollow._ The scene feels all too familiar. It _is_ all too familiar, and Shouyou is about two seconds away from stomping ashore and shouting at Natsu to just _be quiet_ when something flashes near his leg. He reacts instinctively, shoving his hands into the river, but he’s too late: all he catches is water. “Ugh,” he grunts, whipping his arms back in frustration.

Natsu is still sobbing.

Puffing out a forceful breath, Shouyou wades ashore and starts rifling through their sparse belongings, searching for the elusive ring.

“I had it when I woke up,” Natsu says, her voice thick with tears.

Shouyou sifts through the grass, retracing their earlier steps in his head. They woke up before dawn and walked down to Torono, the gutted-out town where they’d once lived with their parents. That seems such a long time ago now. Yes, they walked to Torono, picked through the burned-up rubble searching for supplies, food, whatever they could find. If Natsu lost the ring in Torono….

Shouyou straightens up with a sigh, glancing across the river. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, they do their business among the trees, which means the ring could be over there. It would certainly be better if it were over there. Shouyou kneels, offering Natsu his back. “Come on,” he says.

He takes them across the river and into the trees, some of which are still in bloom, his eyes skimming the underbrush for any sign of the ring. His anger is gone, replaced by a weariness much heavier than Natsu. He wants to find the ring just to have it over with. Then he can get back to catching their dinner.

A peal of laughter makes both their heads snap up.

“Who’s that?” Natsu whispers.

 _That was a boy’s laugh,_ Shouyou thinks, going very still. “Wanna go see?” he says.

“Mm,” says Natsu.

They set off, wending their way up the hill. Animals pause to consider them—birds, squirrels, raccoons—but Shouyou ignores them, brimming with curiosity and something else as he follows the raucous sounds.

“Tooru! That’s cheating!” a boy shouts.

“Is not,” another boy retorts. “Hey! Not so hard, Tobio!”

Shouyou pushes aside a branch, revealing an overgrown yard, in the center of which is an immense but dilapidated shrine; the paint is peeling, the walls are caving in, and broken statues are scattered all about. Flitting among the debris, however, are two living boys, and what’s more: they’re throwing a real, actual ball back and forth over a clothesline. Shouyou’s heart leaps at the sight of them. He takes an unconscious step forward.

One of the boys—the one with fluffy, brown hair—jerks in surprise, and the ball he’s supposed to be catching hits the ground and bounces away. His black-haired companion whirls around, his dark eyes stretched wide.

Sweat prickles Shouyou’s neck. He gives a nervous laugh, and says, “H-Hi!”

Brown-hair picks up the ball, not taking his eyes off Shouyou. “Who’re you?” he asks.

“I’m Shouyou. This is my sister, Natsu. We live down by the river,” he says.

“Down by the river?” Black-hair echoes.

“In the shelter,” Shouyou clarifies.

“Oh. Well, I’m Tobio,” says Black-hair. “This is my brother, Tooru.”

“ _Older_ brother,” Tooru says.

Tobio scowls.

Shouyou’s eyes skim the caved-in shrine. “Do you live here?” he asks.

Tobio shakes his head, and says, “We just needed a place to sleep.”

“Oh,” Shouyou says. “Um. Where do you live then?”

“Anywhere we want,” Tobio replies.

Shouyou looks between them, taking in their ragged clothes, their skinny limbs. _They’re on their own,_ he realizes. _Like me and Natsu._

“Can we play with you?” Natsu asks.

The boys share a look. Tooru shrugs, acquiescing.

Shouyou’s heart skips a beat. He sets Natsu down and practically runs toward the clothesline, and Natsu’s not far behind him; in fact, she runs right up to Tooru, eager as can be, and tries to snatch the ball out of his hands.

“Hey!” Tooru cries, yanking the ball out of her reach.

“Natsu,” Shouyou scolds.

But Tooru’s already laughing. “Here,” he says, handing her the ball. “Just throw it over.”

Natsu’s cheeks are flushed, and her smile is huge. She backs up, pushes her tongue between her teeth, and tosses the ball underhand, sending it arcing over the clothesline like a cannonball.

Shouyou catches the ball easily—breathlessly. He tosses it to Tooru, who tosses it to Tobio, who tosses it back to Natsu, and just like that, they’re playing. Their game transforms the sorry space; soon the air is all shivery with laughter, the sky bright with the music of children at play. And high, high overhead, a single crow catches the air under her wings, her shadow sliding over the ruins of a once-fine shrine.

 

☼

 

“Ahh!” Shouyou sighs, flopping back on the grass. “I’m _starved_.”

Tobio plops down next to him. “Do you have any food?” he asks.

Shouyou frowns, and says, “We have some rice left. I was trying to catch some fish earlier, but then….” He trails off with a glance at Natsu, who’s dozing off in Tooru’s lap, lost ring all but forgotten.

“Do you want some help?” Tobio asks.

Shouyou blinks at him.

“We have fishing poles,” Tobio says, cheeks just a little pink. Then he heads for the crumbling shrine, and when he returns, it’s with a fishing rod in either hand.

A short while later, Shouyou leads the boys (Natsu’s clinging to Tooru’s back this time) down the hill and across the slow-moving river. When they come ashore, Shouyou waves a hand at the dark, cavelike shelter. “Well, this is it,” he says.

Tooru kneels to let Natsu down while Tobio explores, curious as a cat. He eventually picks up Natsu’s discarded (and rather soiled) doll, turning her over in his hands.

“You can play with her if you want,” Natsu says.

Tobio sets the doll down hurriedly. “That’s okay,” he says.

Shouyou wades back into the water, eyes already darting around in search of fish.

“Don’t you have a pole?” Tobio asks.

“Nope,” Shouyou says. “I use my hands.”

Tobio looks a little stunned. Shaking himself, he takes up one of the fishing rods and goes to stand on a flattish rock that juts over a place where the river widens and deepens. Tooru joins him a minute later, Natsu hot on his heels.

“Can I try?” she asks.

Tooru ruffles her hair. “Let me catch something first,” he says.

Natsu pouts for a second, but as soon as Tooru casts his line, her expression turns rapt. She watches, mesmerized, as the hook breaks the river’s surface with a soft _plop_ , causing a circle of ripples to fan out and away over the water.

Things are peaceful while they fish. Across the river, a family of sparrows twitters and chatters while a mother fox darts to and fro amid the underbrush. Frogs croak nearby, low and musical. A warm breeze stirs Shouyou’s hair as he watches the water, hands outstretched. _Any moment now,_ he thinks. He can sense fish nearby, weaving along his periphery, and it’s only a matter of time before they come closer, mistaking his legs for tree trunks, his toes for pale stones.

“Aha!” Tooru cries.

Shouyou wheels around, eyes widening at the size Tooru’s catch; it’s a catfish, and a huge one at that.

Tooru grabs hold of the line and stumbles back, taking the huge, flailing fish with him. “Someone get me a rock!” he shouts.

Shouyou plunges his hands into the river, fingers closing over a large, smooth stone. He splashes ashore, and hands the stone to Tooru.

“Don’t look, Nat-chan,” Tooru says.

“Why?” Natsu demands, then squeals when Shouyou covers her eyes for her.

Tooru makes quick work of knocking the fish unconscious, then withdraws a thin, wooden spike from his pocket, and pierces the fish between the gills and eyes—a humane death—a second before Natsu wriggles free of Shouyou’s hands. She's angrier than a plucked hen, but when she sees the fish lying there like the entrée it’s about to become, all her indignation melts away.

“Can we have fish with miso?” she asks, eyes shimmery with hope.

“We don’t have any miso, Natsu,” Shouyou says gently.

Natsu’s face falls. “Oh.”

“We can make rice, though,” Shouyou says quickly. “Fish and rice!”

Natsu perks up a little.

“And there’s enough for all of us,” Shouyou says, gesturing to the arm-length fish. “We’re gonna be so full!”

 _Eventually,_ Shouyou should’ve added, because even with three boys working to make it happen, cooking dinner in the relative wilderness takes quite a while. It takes almost an hour to get the fire crackling, the fish spitted and roasting, the rice cooking, and four chipped bowls laid out on a tattered, rough-spun blanket. After that, the only thing left to do is wait, so they start rolling the ball back and forth to pass the time, taking care to avoid the dishes and flames.

When at last the air smells good enough to eat, the boys dip their bowls into the rice like it’s iced cream, using Tooru’s pocket knife to slice hunks of fish right off the bone. Natsu watches them work with her doll in her lap, a line of drool sparkling on her chin.

“Here,” Shouyou says, handing Natsu a bowl piled so high it looks like a big, steaming egg. “You can have as much as you want.”

Natsu grips the bowl with both hands. She blows on it a few times, then takes a small bite off the top, chewing with reverent care.

“Mmm,” Tobio groans, pushing hot food into his mouth with the opposite of care.

“This is so _good_ ,” Tooru moans between mouthfuls. He’s not even chewing his food; he’s just inhaling.

Shouyou agrees, but his cheeks are pouched like a chipmunk’s, so he can hardly say so.

Tobio lifts a brow. “You look ridiculous,” he says.

Shouyou has to swallow his current mouthful to reply. “Oh yeah? Well…you have rice on your face!” he tosses back.

Tobio flinches, embarrassed. He swipes his hand across his mouth, glancing at Shouyou for guidance.

“Still there,” Shouyou says.

Tobio scrubs harder. “What about now?”

“Still there,” Shouyou repeats, all but biting his cheek to keep from grinning.

Tooru rolls his eyes, and says, “There’s nothing on your face, Tobio.”

Shouyou bursts out laughing. Tobio’s eyes catch fire.

“Seconds, please!” Natsu cries.

Once Shouyou recovers, they all dip in for seconds. Since they’re no longer ravenous, they chew their food more slowly this time around, tasting and savoring. And they talk too: about the places they used to live, the teachers they once had, the comic books their parents bought for them. They complain about the rations, and they talk about their fathers. The navy. The war.

That's when a memory—brighter than a fish’s scale—takes Shouyou by surprise: A sturdy table piled high with rice, miso, and tempura. Real butter, pickled plums, and sticky-sweet orange slices. His mother’s hands, the smoky scent of his father’s cigarettes. Natsu’s high-pitched squeals.

 _If only the war would end_ , Shouyou thinks. Then his father could come home. Things wouldn’t go back to the way they were, not with his mother gone, but at least he and Natsu wouldn’t have to struggle anymore. At least they’d be a family.

Shouyou is still thinking along these lines when the sun dips below the trees, the half-moon popping out from behind a patch of cloud, and as the crickets start up their nightly song, he can practically taste the cigarette smoke.

 

☼

 

Shouyou opens his eyes with difficulty. And when he does, he sees bombs falling.

No, not bombs, but fireflies. And they’re everywhere. Glowy, floaty, shimmery fireflies.

Shouyou feels so _heavy_. The food was amazingly good. Did he fall asleep afterward? He must’ve, because he’s lying down, and his head is pillowed against something…not soft, but not hard either. It’s almost like a lap.

No, it _is_ a lap.

Shouyou sits up so fast his head spins. Beside him, Tobio jumps, startled. They lock eyes, and Shouyou flushes, a full understanding of what he’s been doing striking him like a sheet of icy-cold rain.

Then he spots the ragged little doll in Tobio’s arms, and the icy cold feeling retreats a bit.

Tobio tenses, but he doesn’t let go of the doll. It’s Natsu’s doll, of course, the very one she offered to share with him earlier. The thought takes Shouyou by the heart strings.

“Tobio?” Shouyou says.

Tobio looks down at the doll. But it’s like he’s looking through her. “Did you have any other siblings?” he asks.

“Um. No. Just Natsu,” Shouyou replies.

“We had a sister,” says Tobio.

Shouyou’s heart sinks.

“We couldn’t find her after,” Tobio says, gaze distant. “We looked for them. Mom said they’d meet us at the shelter.”

Shouyou places a hand on Tobio’s shoulder.

“Some of our neighbors found them after. Tooru wouldn’t let me look,” Tobio says, his face crumpling. “But I know what happened.”

Before Tobio can say another word, Shouyou throws his arms around him, slamming his face against Tobio’s bony shoulder and squeezing him tight.

Tobio makes a plaintive sound.

Shouyou can feel himself trembling. He can see them—the bombs—falling, tumbling, tails on fire. He can _hear_ them.

“Don’t start crying,” Tobio says, even though his own voice is thick.

“I’m not crying,” Shouyou lies, wiping his eyes on Tobio’s shoulder. He turns his head toward the river, watching the firelights shimmer and dance along the water’s glasslike surface. “Stay.”

“Huh?”

“Stay,” Shouyou says again. “With us. You don’t have anywhere else to go, right? You can stay until your dad comes back.”

Tobio blinks. “You mean…here?” he says.

“Where else?” says Shouyou.

“Um. Well, I should probably ask Tooru,” Tobio says.

“It’s fine,” comes Tooru’s voice.

Shouyou jumps, then blows out a breath. “You scared me,” he says.

“Sorry,” Tooru says. He's sitting less than two feet away. Natsu’s curled up in his lap, fast and sound asleep.

“So…you’ll stay?” Shouyou asks him.

Tooru looks down at Natsu, his face softening as he pets her hair. “It’s better if we stick together,” he says.

Shouyou’s chest swells. When he turns his head, he sees that Tobio is smiling.

They stay on the riverbank for a while longer, Tooru stroking Natsu’s hair, Shouyou resting his head on Tobio’s shoulder. The fireflies disappear one by one, their collective glow fading into darkness. When the last, little light goes quiet, the four not-so-lost children slip into the depths of the shelter, and curl up together like a family of foxes, or rabbits, or perhaps raccoons. And although a night breeze nips at the mosquito nets, they keep each other plenty warm.

**Author's Note:**

> About the author: haha, not much to say. I just like to write, and I like when people like my stuff. FYI I’m on both tumblr and twitter as inkleafclover.  
>   
> The wonderful artist, lemonjuiceday, who did all the art for my fic here can be found [here](https://lemonjuiceday.tumblr.com). Please check out their art, it's so damned good!!!  
>   
> Thanks for reading, much love.


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